


Secret Valentine 2

by annalore



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2003-05-03
Packaged: 2019-07-15 19:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annalore/pseuds/annalore
Summary: In “Secret Valentine” Buffy managed to have her one perfect night. Now she has to deal with the consequences.





	Secret Valentine 2

The room felt different when she went back in. Uncomfortable. He was awake and sitting up against the headboard, looking at the door as if he'd been waiting for her to come in. He had been, most likely.

"So, the bit left, then?"

"Yeah. Went to Janice's." She knew it wasn't necessary to tell him. She knew he could hear anything that went on in the house, just like she could. It was a pretense. Most things in her life were pretenses. She hardly noticed it anymore.

"And what are we going to do now?" He kept his voice carefully neutral. He knew full well this could turn out ugly. He was the one that had said he didn't care.

Her jaw tightened as she moved closer to the bed. She wanted to hit him. She had no idea why, but God, she wanted to hit him. But this was her house, her room, not his crypt where she could break anything she wanted. Not that it was really right of her to break his stuff, but she figured he'd stolen it anyway. It's not like he couldn't go steal another lamp, or clock, or bed. Maybe the bed thing would be hard. But she hadn't broken that. And it's not like they spent much time on it anyway.

"What is there to do?" she asked, suppressing the violent urge.

"We used to talk, remember?"

"I remember."

And she did. She remembered a time when she could tell him anything, and he'd listen. She remembered a time when she knew he'd understand what she was feeling without question. She remembered the time before he was her lover. When it had always felt comfortable to be around him.

"Come 'ere," he said, gesturing to the space next to him.

Letting her tension dissolve, she walked over obediently, climbing onto the bed. As she settled herself beside him, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.

"Don't remember it being quite like this..." she said as she let her head rest against his shoulder.

"Well, pet, it's still Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

"What's your point?"

Pulling her closer, he replied, "I've got the rest of the night, haven't I?"

"Never said that," she murmured, but didn't resist. It was kinda nice, being held in a non-sexual way. Being close to someone.

"You never said no either, did you?"

"That's a stupid argument. I hope you know that," she said through a yawn.

"Tired, luv?" he asked, sounding almost proud.

"Not because of you. Think it was the wine..."

"Come on, Slayer, you aren't that much of a lightweight. Seen you down almost a full bottle of the hard stuff and walk away."

"To become violently ill not too long after."

"You do realize that's still more than a run-of-the-mill tolerance, don't you?" Answering for her, he continued, "Of course you don't. You don't realize how different you really are... how remarkable..."

He leaned in on his last word and, smiling softly, she pushed him away. "Stop it..."

His voice turning serious, he said, "It's not just a cheap come on, Buffy. You... are amazing..."

"Spike... please don't do this..." she answered, sadness creeping into her tone.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? Knowing I feel that way about you? Knowing I'm in love with you..."

"That doesn't mean anything..."

"Yes," he insisted, "it does."

"What, are you going to tell me that love conquers all, and that everyone has their happy ending? That me and you have a chance to be anything other than people who occasionally have monumentally good sex? That's not the way it works, Spike."

He tightened his arm around her, stroking her back lightly to calm her mounting hysteria.

"Shhh... you don't have to work it all out right now... I just want you to know... 's okay, luv. No pressure."

"You say that, but you don't mean it. You're always pressuring."

"Not tonight. I just want you to feel special..."

Letting herself relax, she snuggled against him and whispered, "I do. It was... amazing." The words didn't come easily, not after so long denying the feelings behind them, but she wanted him to get something out of this night too. "The things you make me feel... Tonight has been my best Valentine's day." Reflecting, she added, "Not that there's a lot of competition in that department."

He remembered at least one of those years, remembered how his present to his last love had been rejected in favor of the attentions of the recently returned Angelus. He'd never considered it from Buffy's point of view, but now that he did, he realized how much it must have hurt her. He wasn't sure what to say, knowing how she'd loved Angel, how she wasn't really over him. So he let the conversation lapse into silence.

Eventually, she murmured, "I think I need to sleep now..."

"If you want me to go..."

He left the offer unspoken, not sure if he could make it, even while willing to leave if she needed him to.

"No," she answered, "stay. You can gaze adoringly at me while I sleep, or whatever mushy thing guys do after getting lucky."

"Watch your mouth, Slayer. I'm not some school boy seducing his best girl, and you know it."

"Tonight, you are. Tomorrow we can go back to violence and breaking stuff. I'm all for property damage."

"I know it..." he said with a smirk.

She smiled saucily. "Maybe I'll let you use the candles."

"As a romantic gesture?" he feigned innocence.

"You _know_ what I mean, Spike. Now, come on..."

"Better be nice, Buffy, or I won't let you wear my varsity jacket..."

"Stop it," she admonished, barely able to keep the laughter out of her voice. "Now be good, and offer to pull back the sheets for me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She didn't wake up in a cold sweat or gasping for breath. That was the first thing she noticed. Next, she realized that she felt well-rested. She also felt safe and warm and loved. She was being held in someone's arms. She remembered Spike then, and it was by no means a bad memory.

She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her. It was rare that she actually got to enjoy lying in bed.

"Hey, sleepy'ead," he whispered. "I know you're awake."

"Gazing adoringly?" she questioned, not opening her eyes.

"Was thinkin' about giving you my pin."

Elbowing him lightly, she retorted, "You don't _have_ a pin, Spike."

"You so sure about that?"

He pulled her back against him, and she felt... oh. Her eyes shot open and her mouth went dry. She let him turn her around, pulling her on top of him.

She looked down at him, expressive eyes full of uncertainty. She was letting him in, into her bed, into her life, and she wasn't sure it was a good idea. He could hurt her so badly right now, and she wouldn't be able to defend herself. It scared her. Bringing her hand to his face, she touched his cheek gently, almost to see if he were really there. As if she could doubt it, with the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh.

"Spike..." she whispered softly.

 

"Buffy!" The shrill voice of her little sister cut through the calm.

Rolling off Spike, she frantically looked for her clock. When she couldn't find it, she demanded, "What time is it?"

"Somewhere near noon. You pushed the alarm clock off onto the floor when it went off. Didn't even wake while you did it."

"Oh, no," she said in a 'this is not happening' tone. "I have work. And Dawn... she can't see us like this."

"Then you'd better tell her you're awake before she comes in to check on you," he responded without emotion.

Grateful for his presence of mind, she called down, "We'll be down in a minute, Dawnie."

As soon as she realized what she'd just said, she threw a hand over her mouth, as if she could take it back. Her eyes widening in panic, she looked at Spike, realizing for the first time how wrong this whole thing was. How much he really didn't belong here.

"What're you gonna do now?" he asked, remaining stoic and unreadable.

"I..." She took a breath. This wasn't the end of the world, was it? She'd just tell Dawn about Spike. Because... Because she didn't have any other choice. She’d let him in, she’d let him stay, and now she’d have to deal with the consequences.

She crawled across the bed and placed a hand on his chest, the warmth of her body being pulled into his skin. He put his hand over hers, looking up at her curiously.

“I don’t like you being in here,” she whispered. They both knew she wasn’t only referring to her room.

"You're the one that let me in," he pointed out.

"And I could kick you out just as easily." She pulled her hand away as she said and felt a slight pang off loss. They both knew she was lying, not only to him, but to herself. It hadn't been easy for her to let him into this place, where there were so close, and there was no way but farther in, no pain worse than that of separation. She’d never wanted to want him, but now that she did…

She shook herself out of the moment, remembering that her little sister was downstairs waiting, and that they didn’t have time to figure things out. "You..." Looking down at his naked form, she blushed. "You take a cold shower or something." Finishing the rest in a mumble she added, "I'll tell her you're here."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy walked into the living room to find her little sister sitting on the couch, waiting for her. They both heard the pipes creak as the water started running through them, and Dawn looked up.

"Is Willow back already?"

"No," Buffy answered shortly.

"Then who is it?"

"Dawnie, I..." She sat down in the armchair. "How was your sleepover?"

"Oh, no. Don't think you're getting out of this that easily. Who've you got up there? Some secret boyfriend, or something?"

Dawn had only been joking, but when she saw her sister slump farther into the cushion of the chair, she realized she'd hit on the truth. Buffy had been having a tryst, maybe even when she'd come home the night before.

Now that she suspected it, the signs were all there. Buffy was somehow managing to look both bonelessly relaxed and like a bundle of stress at the same time. She was wearing flannel pajama pants, and one of those skimpy camisoles, and her hair was up in a sloppy ponytail. Nothing screamed 'I've just gotten laid' louder than that on her sister.

"It's Spike," Buffy whispered, just too softly for Dawn to be sure of what she'd heard.

"Did you just say...?"

"Spike," she repeated, this time at an audible level. "I said Spike."

Excitement bubbled into the teenager's voice. "Spike. Is upstairs. Using our shower."

"Uh-huh..." Buffy replied lowly.

"This is so cool. Do you know how cool this is?"

"Why, because you harbor a perverse desire to have him bathe in your house?"

"No, because it means you 'n him are—" Making a visible effort to calm herself down, she continued, "You _are_ , right?"

"We are," the older girl confirmed softly, not offering any more information than she had to.

"So, is Spike like your boyfriend now?

"Spike is..." She trailed off when she heard the shower shut off. He'd be coming down any minute now. "Spike and I..." she blushed. "I don't think I have to tell you."

"On Valentine's Day?" Dawn squealed, remembering the date and forgetting her attempt at maturity at the same time.

"Last night wasn't the first time."

"But still," she insisted, not losing any of her exuberance. "It's _so_ romantic. Did he get you flowers?"

"No." When her sister's face fell Buffy added, "But there was wine and cake."

"See, romance. And Spike is totally in love with you..."

"Dawn," Buffy halted her. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh. Well, what is he, then?"

 

"That's a good question," Spike's voice cut into the conversation.

Buffy turned her head towards the source of the words, something intimate in her eyes, in the way her body molded itself to the chair, as she looked up at her lover. Dawn didn’t understand quite what was happening, but it made her feel like she was intruding on something.

Buffy stood and half smiled at him, then bit her lip, fear appearing in her eyes. Nothing in her life had prepared her to face this. One on side she had her sister, who was so excited she didn't even see why this wasn't a good situation. On the other, she had Spike, who wanted so much from her and she wasn't sure if she could give him any of it, much less all.

"Spike..." she started softly.

"Are you going to kiss?" Dawn's voice broke in. Both Buffy and Spike gaped at her, only just remembering she was there.

Spike wanted nothing more than to do it, to be able to touch Buffy whenever he wanted to, no matter who else knew about it. Until the night before, he'd known her terms didn't include that as a possibility. Now... Now he had no idea where they stood. If it would bring them closer or make her push him farther away.

She looked up at him, her expression echoing the uncertainty he felt. She wanted to be in his arms so badly, to forget who was there and what it would mean. But she couldn't. She never could. She broke the eye contact, looking down at her hands.

He stepped into her personal space, pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her waist. She looked up at him, too shocked to pull away immediately, her eyes catching his for a long moment. Something heated in his eyes reminded her of what they hadn't finished earlier. She licked her suddenly dry lips, feeling him take in her every movement, feeling even more acutely his reaction...

Suddenly remembering Dawn was in the room, Buffy pushed Spike away, forcing herself not to want what he had to offer.

At his accusing glare (what did he have to accuse her of this time?) she said, "You were getting me all wet..."

Spike raised his eyebrows, looking at her pointedly. Buffy frowned, not quite sure what he was trying to communicate. After a second, her eyes widened comically, realizing just what she'd said.

"My shirt! I was talking about my shirt! From the shower you just took?"

"Uh, guys?” Dawn’s voice cut in.

“What?” Buffy snapped at her, not really annoyed at Dawn, but mad at herself for getting all worked up about Spike.

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right? Like why is Spike in our house, half naked and wet?” Buffy’s eyes widened again and Dawn added, “From the shower? That he just took in our bathroom? That you just reminded him he just took?”

Dawn had no idea what was wrong with her sister, but she was sure it had something to do with the sex. Her mind seemed to be completely locked in “must do Spike” mode, weird as that concept was. Spike's mind couldn't be much better — he'd been wanting to do her sister for at least a year now.

“I _told_ you, Dawnie,” Buffy answered forbearingly. “With the Valentine stuff, and the, uh, sex. And the sleeping over.” Her face grew increasingly more red as she continued. “Which won’t happen again!”

“Which part?” Dawn asked skeptically.

“The sleeping part?” Buffy offered meekly. Oh, yeah, she had it bad. She’d told herself from the start that if someone found out about her and Spike, she’d call it off. Pretend like it never happened. Yet here she was, practically telling her little sister she was going to continue having hot sex with her mortal enemy.

Dawn attempted to sound calm and cool, but it failed miserably. “It’s totally cool for you to have Spike over. All the time. I can even leave right now."

“I told you it's not like that, Dawn. I..." Buffy looked at Spike, carefully weighing her next words. "I won't say I might never want to have Spike over. I just don't know when I'll be ready for that."

"But you're saying you _will_ be ready? At some point?" Spike asked, knowing her words were meant for him as well as Dawn.

"I think I will. I think..." Buffy looked down at the ground, her heart beating furiously at what she was about to say. "I think I want there to be an ‘us,’ Spike."

She had to wait a couple agonizingly long seconds before she got his response. She was more nervous than she ever would have dreamed she'd be about Spike, and she hated herself for caring so much. She wished she could just take the words back, take the entire night back, as romantic and perfect as it had been.

Finally, she felt his arm snake around her waist, his other hand tilting her chin up so she was looking at him. "I love you, Buffy Summers. And I will do whatever it takes to make you happy."

Dawn couldn't stop herself from squealing. Just about the sweetest thing she'd ever seen was happening right in front of her. This completely beat out her stuffed bear. She bit her lip to keep from making any more noise, but Spike still glared at her. Taking the hint, Dawn headed to the stairs to go to her room. Sneaking a last glance at her sister, she saw that she hadn't even noticed.

Buffy was in shock. Not from Spike's declaration, because she'd already known and kinda accepted that, but from the words that had come out of her own mouth. ‘ _I want there to be an “us”?_ ’ she mouthed to herself. It even sounded lame in her head. And... the very not inconsiderable freakiness associated with saying those words to Spike.

She looked up at him, apprehension in her eyes. “Can I take that back?” Spike’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as the girl in his arms continued. “I mean... I’m not sure what I mean. This is all _so_ confusing. You’re making me say things that I don’t think I want to say.”

Spike had to chuckle at the both frantic and perplexed look that had managed to appear on the Slayer’s face. “It’s okay, luv,” he assured soothingly. “It’s alright.”

“It is?” she asked disbelievingly, although she calmed down slightly.

“I think we need to take a step back. Figure out a routine, and all that. Decide what it is we want to do...”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. What she wanted to do. That was easy. Right? Her mind was blank. She couldn’t think of a single thing she wanted to do. Well, besides... Kissing Spike wasn’t an option was it? Or, it could be. Kissing Spike. Good option. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, only smiling wider when he looked slightly intimidated.

“Hm... I don’t know about you,” she murmured, arching her neck up, “but I _really_ want some smoochies right about now...”

He leaned down to meet her, his lips poised just over hers. “Just what I’ve been thinking about all morning...”

She moved closer, her lips skimming his in a feather light touch before pulling away teasingly. “And just what else... have you wanted to do?”

He spun her around suddenly, sitting down in the chair she’d recently vacated. “Well, once upon a time, if you recall...” he started, pulling her down into his lap, “I held you like this... could hardly get you out of my mind, Buffy.”

Squirming a bit as she settled against his chest, she murmured, “I remember liking this... hating that I liked it, afterwards... I _still_ hate that I like it.”

“But you do. Like it, that is,” he said, stroking her hair gently.

“I do. You know I do.” She looked up at him and smiled. “We never got to... you know... but this is nice. We can always do that later.”

“Tonight, then?” Spike took advantage of the tilt of her head to lean in and kiss her.

“Mmm... tonight... Definitely tonight...” She kissed him again before continuing. “I have to... go to work eventually... But after that.”

“My place, I’m assuming.” Spike tried to keep any bitterness out of his tone.

“Your place. People will be here, you know that. Plus...” She blushed and looked down at his chest. “You have all the stuff at your place.”

“The what?” Spike couldn’t help but look amused.

“The stuff. You know... the candles... handcuffs... the other, uh, stuff...”

“Is that the way you like it, then?” She could almost hear him raising his eyebrow as he said it.

She sighed. “This _isn’t_ some scene of domestic bliss, Spike. Me, you... We’re not like that. You’re not the star football player, and I was never the Homecoming queen.” She paused. “Well, there was that once... but that’s not the point!”

“Then do tell, luv. What is the point? Because you were certainly acting the part. All soft and wanting to cuddle. Not like your usual self at all.”

“Well, you can’t expect--“ Buffy trailed off and frowned. “Wait, my _usual_ self? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all, Slayer...” Spike sighed and shook his head.

“I want you to tell me.”

“No offense, pet, but you’re not normally open about your feelings. You don’t usually let me in, tell me what you like. You’re acting like this is something it’s not.”

“What is it, then?” Her voice was soft, not demanding, and some of the fear from earlier had returned. Spike almost regretted calling her on her actions, seeing what he’d known all along. Now that she’d stopped running, she was completely lost. “I don’t know, Spike. What to do, what to feel... This is all...” She trailed off, shrugging.

“I don’t need you to know, Buffy. I just need you to be sure this is what you want. Couldn’t live with it, if it all turned out to be just a dream, or a cruel joke.”

“It was the truth. When I said it. It’s still the truth.” She let out a breath, as if saying those words had been physically draining.

“Then you don’t have to act out a part. Just be yourself.”

Considering those words, Buffy settled back against Spike’s chest. Funny, she hadn’t remembered pulling away from him in the first place. Must’ve been during the fighting. “And you think this will all get better?”

“It’s better already. You’re in my arms, where I can touch you... kiss you...” He kissed her bare shoulder to demonstrate. “Love you...”

“Mmm... Stop it, you’ll make me forget why I was mad at you.”

“That’s rather the point, luv.”

“But I wanna be mad...” she said petulantly.

“Well, if you insist, I could always get started on your choice in friends...”

“Hey! There is nothing wrong with--!” Buffy broke off, her cheeks coloring slightly as she realized what Spike was doing.

He chuckled lightly. “I can get you mad, no problem. It’s keeping you happy I’m concerned about.”

“You said that,” she observed. A moment later, she added, “I have to go to work soon, or they’ll fire me.”

“And until then?”

“I want to sit here and not think.”

“I can arrange that.” Spike tightened his arms around the girl, and Buffy let herself relax.

After a minute, she looked up and asked, “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world...”

Buffy let her head drop back against Spike’s chest, emptying her mind of everything except how good this felt. The moment took on a bit of the perfection of the night before, and she felt like she had then: warm, loved, protected. She felt safe.

She knew it wouldn’t always be like this, that there would probably be times she’d just as soon claw Spike’s eyes out as look at him. But for now, knowing that the feeling existed was enough. She could weather the storm, if she had this to come home to in the end. Life wasn’t really so bad after all.


End file.
